Tonight is my last night with a six-year-old boy. And my last few days with a four-year-old girl. I’ve told them both they could do whatever they want on their birthdays.
The girl gave it lots of thought. “I want to go to the Res. And if it’s rainy, then I want to go see the fashion show at the MFA. Or maybe see a movie! I think MFA and then if there’s time, go see a movie.”
The boy also gave it some thought. “What’s it going to be?” I asked. “We could go to the Res, head to the Museum of Science, go to the movies, do whatever you’d like.”
He came up with his plan a couple of days ago. “I know what I want to do. I want to stay home and play Wii all day. And stay in my pajamas until dinner time.” Done.
Both of them have discovered Chicken Yakitori, so on both Monday and Wednesday we are headed to the only Asian restaurant in town that serves Chicken Yakitori. But I said to them both, “You can pick what you have for breakfast and lunch, too.”
Pie thinks. “Um, I want Chicken Yakitori for dinner, and I want… only fruits and vegetables for breakfast and lunch!”
“Okay,” I say. “What do you want, Doodles?”
“Hmm,” he starts. “Let’s see. For breakfast I want hot dogs. For lunch, I’d like a steak with barbecue sauce. And Chicken Yakitori, or course, for dinner.”
I told him I’d be willing to compromise. Eggs and bacon for breakfast. I pointed out that I really am not a great griller of steaks, and that I don’t think I could do one justice, so he agreed to hamburgers for lunch. A return to Camp Carnivore for the boy.
My babies. All grown up and becoming their own people. Yikes.
